I'm Awake and Feel the Ache
by greysantomyyyyyxxxxxx
Summary: She just needs the ache to go away, even if just for a moment. Maddison. Oneshot.


_**Author's Note: I just needed to write some smutty, angst. As always enjoy and review.**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. **_

I close the wooden door behind myself. I stop and peer through the blinds at the happy family. I am responsible for saving that child's life, why don't I feel some sense of accomplishment, why doesn't the ache go away?

The ache doesn't go away. It's constant. It weighs me down, and makes it impossible for me to really do anything worthwhile. At work, I feel like I'm simply going through the motions, attempting to avoid the pitying looks of my colleagues and subordinates.

At first I thought the pain was a result of my husband's infidelity, which was caused by my own. At first I thought the problem was outside of myself, but days passes and the ache only intensified. My problem is within, the external forces just actually gave me a reason to feel this way.

At night, I sit alone in my grandiose hotel room. My closet is full of designer clothing, but I feel so incomplete. The bottle of champagne I've finished on my own is empty on the nightstand. My cell phone is off and tucked away in a weak attempt for me not to make a call to end my loneliness.

I am lonely every second of the day. I can be standing in the middle of a room full of people and I've never felt more alone. I need some sort of distraction. I just need a release.

Maybe that's why I'm letting Mark push me against the wall of the on-call room. I make a few protests, but we know it's just for show. I need this. I need this so the ache will stop even if just for a few moment. A few moments is all I need.

His rough skilled hands travel along my ribcage as he tears off my crème sweater. I hear the seams rip as he pulls it over my head. He just destroyed my five hundred dollar sweater, and I couldn't care less.

His mouth is running along my neck. I can feel his teeth running along my skin. The mixture of pleasure and pain makes me dizzy. I can feel the ache begin to fade away, but not quite.

Mark is whispering something into my ear but I cannot hear him. I don't need his words I just need his body. I'm using him, and he knows this. Something tells me that he really doesn't care.

I wrap my hands behind his head and kiss him deeply to shut him up. I bite down on his bottom lip; the salty taste of blood fills both of our mouths. He breaks away running his thumb along his bruised lip.

"Bitch," he whispers as he pulls his shirt over his head and drops his hands to he belt removing it. Finally he says something that I don't mind hearing. I am a bitch, but even bitches deserve distraction from time to time.

Mark grabs my shoulders roughly as he pushes me towards the bed. I fall back onto the bed and begin to pull off my shirt, wanting this badly, now. The ache would go away as soon as he entered me, I know it would.

Mark walks over to the bed, crushing his body on top of mine. I feel like I can't breathe. This feeling is exacerbated by kiss. Mark runs his hand along my stomach, as I break the kiss gasping for air.

He slips his hand down my panties and roughly enters two fingers inside my tight channel. He moves his hand forcefully causing me to cry out. His other hand tears off my panties throwing them to the floor with my skirt. He knows I like it rough. His movements are fast and purposeful. His thumb finds my clit and presses down on it.

"Fuck me," I whisper into his ear. He knows what I want and need.

Mark responds to me by slipping another finger in my entrance. I'm not going to lie, it hurts, but it hurts so good.

"Is this what you want?" Mark asks me as he slams his fingers into me. "Tell me this is what you want." Mark applies more pressure to my clit.

"Yes," I cry out and I feel myself spasm around his fingers. I buck my hips to meet his hand and he continues to finger fuck me until I have no more to give. I rest my head on the pillow, and watch as Mark begins to pull down his pants, and boxers.

I reach out and pull him on top of me. He guides himself into me, and I feel my eyes roll into the back of my head. He moves in and out of me slowly. I become agitated. I grab his ass and force him to thrust fully into me. Mark and I moan loudly, simultaneously. Mark takes the hint and begins to move in and out of me quickly and forcefully.

I wrap my legs around his torso. My four-inch Louboutin heels dig into his back, edging him on. Mark loses all semblance of control. He takes my hands on pins them to the bed, fucking me hard and violently, exactly how I need it. I'm gasping for air. My heart still feels heavy. My head is still involved. The ache is still very much real but it's in combination with the painful pleasure that Mark is giving me.

Mark thrusts into me one final time, and I feel his cum fill me. He drops his hand to where we meet and rubs my clit furiously, and bites down on my collarbone. I feel myself lose control and consciousness at the same time. Finally, the ache subsides, and it doesn't matter that I'm conscious. I don't feel pain. I don't feel anything.

I wake up, I don't know how long later. Mark is gone. I'm alone in the cold on-call room, half naked. I feel dirty, and used. I breathe in deeply, and I feel the ache. It's deep and heavy within my heart. I wish I knew how to make it stop. I wish I had some sort of control. I had to literally let Mark fuck me until I could barely walk just so I wouldn't feel so lonely, and it was only a matter of time before it wouldn't work.

The ache won't stop, and part of me in convinced it never would. I will be alone for the rest of my life, and part of me knows this is something I deserve.

I struggle to stand and pull my clothes on in a weak attempt to cover my body, cover my pain. I lie back down on the bed, and cry. There's nothing else for me to do. Bitches deserve to cry.

**Again the sun was never called **

**And darkness spreads over the snow **

**Like ancient bruises **

**I'm awake and feel the ache**

–**Regina Spektor**


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